


A Dull Kitchen Knife

by castielrisingabove



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 11.14 coda, Angst, Casifer, Destiel implied, M/M, cas perspective
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-22
Updated: 2016-02-22
Packaged: 2018-05-22 14:05:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6082209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/castielrisingabove/pseuds/castielrisingabove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>11.14 coda from Castiel's perspective.</p><p>"You want to be useful, but anyone can tell you a blunt kitchen knife is more nuisance than help. It barely cuts the vegetables, but you know what? It's awfully good at getting other people hurt."</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Dull Kitchen Knife

Cas had never been so relieved to feel the burning in his being, the unpleasant sensation of being banished, as Sam's blood sent he and Lucifer far,  _far_ away from the Winchesters. They were in danger, he knew that now. How he'd ever been so naive to believe Lucifer would spare them...Cas didn't want to think about that. He could almost  _hear_ Dean's voice in his head, harsh and devoid of warmth, reprimanding him for his stupidity.

What were they thinking of him now?

He'd seen Sam's face. The horror across Sam's features mirrored a similar emotion deep within Castiel's gut that twisted sharply when he allowed Lucifer, one of Sam's worst nightmares (Cas knows as much, he's taken on Sam's nightmares), reached in to touch his very soul. Sam, Castiel decided, would never be able to forgive him. Even if (and that was a  _very_ big if) Cas could end the Darkness and expel Lucifer...he'd already violated Sam. 

 _ **"You're like a blunt kitchen knife,"**_ Lucifer's drawl filled Cas' whole head. He was so  _big_ and Castiel has never felt so small within his own vessel. Physical sensations were dulled, the view of the outside world blurred and constantly Castiel could feel Lucifer's icy presence enveloping him. He's surprised things don't freeze when Lucifer touches them, surprised the Winchesters didn't notice a difference. 

 _"I beg your pardon?"_ Cas braced himself for what could be coming next. He doubted Lucifer expected Castiel's show of force, hell, Castiel hadn't expected that himself. It had just...happened, Castiel thrashing against Lucifer's control as his hand plunged into Sam Winchester's soul, then suddenly it was like a layer had been removed. The world rose sharply into focus and sights, sounds, smells all heightened. Cas hadn't even realized he had full control of the body as his hand jerked out of Sam's body.

 ** _"You want to be useful,"_** Lucifer continued,  ** _"But anyone can tell you a blunt kitchen knife is more nuisance than help. It barely cuts the vegetables, but you know what? It's awfully good at getting other people hurt._ _"_**

This isn't the first time Castiel has been referred to as a tool. It's true, of course. He's never been much good on his own. Anything Castiel has done for himself, of his own free will, has only ended in pain and chaos. A tool, though, a tool is guided into helping someone better achieve greatness. Castiel doesn't mind being a tool. Especially not for the Winchesters. He tried to remind himself that Lucifer's jab is just that, but there's still a part of Castiel that can't help but feel disappointed at what Lucifer's implying. That not only is Castiel all but useless to the Winchesters, he also serves to hurt them.

Hurt them.

Which brought Castiel to the other expression he'd seen in the Bunker. The disgust and fear on Dean's face as Sam shouted that it wasn't Cas. The thought of it made Cas  _ache_. He would have given anything to be the one to travel back in time and save Dean. And while technically Castiel did (at the cost of his own free will, no less), it was really Lucifer who pulled Dean back. Cas wasn't the hero, Cas was the inconvenience. The wrong-doer who'd freed Lucifer on the world.

 ** _"It's adorable the way you pine for The Righteous Man,"_** Lucifer's voice snapped Castiel back into the present. He watched as his hands blazed for a moment with grace, wiping away all traces of dirt from his suit. Cas couldn't help but notice the lack of trench coat. Then again, perhaps it was better that way. That coat was part of  _his_ identity, not Lucifer's.

 _"I do not pine_."

Lucifer laughed, a cold and ringing laugh that echoed in Castiel's soul.  ** _"Though I doubt "righteous" is really the best adjective to describe him. Carnal, perhaps, or callous. Maybe cruel? I much prefer 'angel killer.' It's blunt, but doesn't leave anything to the imagination, am I right?"_**

Lucifer reached into his pocket to pull out an angel blade, giving it a good twirl as the two of them surveyed their landing site. It was a farm, lavender by the scent of it, and the sky was dark. Cas might not know the exact location of where he was, but he knew they were far from Sam and Dean. He both ached and cheered at that thought.

**_"And even I have to admit, he's good. I mean, who else would be able to pull something off the way he has? He's got you so beaten down, Castiel, that even Crowley in his miserable state is better off than you. You, oh, Dean-o doesn't even need chains for you. He just calls and you're at his doorstep. If you displease him, all he needs are a few sharp words that you take to heart and--"_ **

_"Stop."_

It's an interesting juxtaposition: this beautiful field -- miles of purple flowers, no less -- and the ugliest of words. It's awful, knowing Lucifer can and does root around Castiel's hidden places with just as much dismissal as he used in the Bunker. And it's worse knowing those thoughts and feelings are the very things Lucifer used against him.

**_"Let's face it, Castiel. You're nothing to Dean Winchester and you both know it."_ **

The cold began to pull on Cas' stamina. The fire that had filled Castiel's soul when it came to saving Sam was long since dead. It doesn't matter that Castiel has been fending off similar attacks from Lucifer, something about this time made it worse. Perhaps it was finally seeing how disappointed Sam and Dean were in him. Or realizing for the first time that this plan might actually get the two of them hurt, maybe even killed, by his own hands.

If Castiel had been thinking clearly, he might have noted Lucifer's surprise when Castiel had regained control of his own body; Lucifer hadn't expected Castiel to be that strong. If Castiel had been thinking clearly, he might have recognized the aching sadness reflected in Sam's eyes at the thought of someone he considered family being used as the devil's puppet. And if Castiel had been thinking clearly, he could have seen the way the wind was knocked out of Dean at the realization someone he loved was _gone_...

Any strategist could have seen the combination of Lucifer's dwindling hold on Castiel, doubled with the overwhelming love the Winchesters held in their chests for the angel, as a sign that Castiel would be strong enough to handle himself. And Castiel wasn't just any strategist, he was one of Heaven's most gifted.

But he was also broken. As though every passing jab from Dean, every dismissive scoff from Sam, every failure and misstep, combined with Lucifer's brutal and unendingly icy torment had been enough to all but bury the once-great angel. Castiel could feel himself curling up inside himself, like a hunter caught in a blizzard, withdrawing from the purple of the lavender fields into the white abyss.

 ** _"That's right,"_** Lucifer cooed,  ** _"Go to sleep, little brother. It'll all be easier..."_**

And so Cas did, drifting off into his own consciousness, mind curled tight to keep out the cold. But he wasn't giving up. No, Castiel might be a dull kitchen knife, a broken hammer, whatever it was that meant he was of little use or notice...but he could give one last push. So he saved his strength, waiting for the right moment to strike. Whether that was to hold Lucifer still as Dean jammed an angel blade into his heart, or if he could actually drag the devil into hell on his own...whatever it was, Castiel was going to be ready. 

He'd save the Winchesters. Even if it was the last thing he could do.


End file.
